Each time one of my parents gets admitted to the hospital (which thankfully isn't often) I take comfort in knowing that throughout their stay, there's always at least one daughter (there are five of us) sitting at the end of their bed offering comfort and support. As much as this means to me....knowing that they are never alone....it also brings me sadness. Because I don't have children of my own, I can't help but think to myself...when I'm old and ailing...who will sit at the end of my bed? 
I recently shared these feelings with my dear friend Claire while we were in a deep conversation about coping with being a caretaker of an ailing spouse or parent. Claire later recalled what I had said and took the liberty of asking a poet friend of hers to write a poem for me based on that conversation.
L.M. "Dutch" Keen wrote the above poem which Claire then printed and framed for me. To say that the this gift touched me to the core would be an understatement.
(to read the poem, click on the image above to enlarge)
